Enjolras Discovers Fanfiction
by Simbelmyne Nienor
Summary: I like literal titles. What horrors lie in store for Enjolras when he discovers a little thing called Fanfiction?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all! Welcome to "Enjolras Discovers Fanfiction." I hope you like it. If you haven't, please check out my other story, "The Peoples of Middle Earth Take on Les Misérables." For those of you who don't already know, today is/was my birthday (it's nearing midnight). I received three Enjolras jackets and a charm bracelet with Enjolras on it. :) Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Despite my three Enjolras jackets, I do not own Les Misérables or any other thing I might reference in this story.**

* * *

Enjolras was cranky. He woke up only to realize he had an incomplete paper due in university that day and a meeting at the Musain later on in the day. To top things off, his coffee maker decided to die on him.

"Stupid technology. Always dying on me," Enjolras grumbled to himself.

While Enjolras was moaning and groaning and kicking various items of furniture, Grantaire walked through the door holding a bagel and a cup of coffee.

"Tsk tsk tsk, Enjolras, kicking poor, defenseless furniture," Grantaire mock-scolded. This only earned him a scowl from the furniture-kicker.

"Grantaire, how did you get in my apartment?" Enjolras questioned, trying not to lose his cool, "I could report you for breaking and entering."

Grantaire chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee, "I know you don't mean that. Only strangers break in and enter. Am I a stranger, Enjolras?"

"You are strange, but sadly, I know you too well for you to be reported to the police. And still, how did you get in my apartment?"

This earned him an eye-roll from Grantaire.

"You really should keep your spare key in a more original place. Under the doormat? Really?"

Enjolras put up his hands in self defense, "It was Bossuet's idea. In case I lose my luck and can't find it again or something like that."

Taking another sip of his coffee and a bite of his bagel, Grantaire started to leave.

"Hey, Grantaire," Grantaire stopped in his tracks and turned around, "can I have some of your coffee? My coffee machine broke."

Grantaire held a protective arm around his coffee, "No, Enjolras."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Oh, alright."

Enjolras got handed the Styrofoam cup as Grantaire walked out of the room.

"Thanks, Grantaire. Hey," a smirk appeared on Grantaire's face, "it's empty!" Enjolras yelled, "Grantaire!"

But all that was left of Grantaire was a lingering shout down the hallway, "See you this afternoon, Enjolras. Enjoy your coffee!"

Back in the doorway of his apartment, Enjolras fumed. Grantaire was going to get it.

* * *

Later that afternoon, in the Café Musain, Enjolras was giving a stirring speech, as always, when Courfeyrac spoke up.

"Hey, where are Grantaire and Bahorel?"

Enjolras stopped and froze on the chair that he was standing on.

Joly contributed to the discussion of the two missing Amis, "I think they went to the café down the street, the one with those big, plastic boxes. What are they called, where you can write and research?"

"Computers?" Combeferre supplied.

"Yeah, that's it. Well, they were going there for a drink and to look up directions to Marius' house."

Enjolras finally opened his mouth, "Marius? Why that Buonapartist?"

"I dunno. They probably wanted to ask if he had any liquor," Courfeyrac shrugged.

"Anyway," Joly continued, "they should have been here by now."

At that moment, a very out of breath Bahorel came running in through the doors of the Musain. Pointing wildly at the street, he gasped, "Grantaire. At the café. Rooted to the spot. The horror. Must come."

Combeferre, being the advising one, nudged Enjolras to lead the way.

Enjolras, however, was not at all happy. "Oh, Grantaire. What have you done now?"

* * *

Five streets over at the new café, the Amis finally caught up with a sprinting Bahorel, only to find Grantaire curled up in fetal position on the floor.

"What happened?" Feuilly breathed, just a little bit out of shape from all that running.

"Ask him for yourself. It's too horrific for me to recount," Bahorel replied grimly.

Feuilly nodded and walked over to a cowering Grantaire, "Hey, Grantaire, can you please tell us what happened?"

Grantaire froze, as if debating whether he should relive the moment or not, and then nodded.

"Bahorel and I typed Marius' name into the searchbar to find out where he lived, just in case he had any leftover wine and such. After fooling around for a bit, we typed in Marius and Cosette's names, only to see if they had any new photos on Facebook. Instead, we came across this website called 'Fanfiction.'"

Feuilly frowned, "That doesn't sound so bad. What is this Fanfiction that you speak of?"

Grantaire shuddered, but continued, "It's a website where fans of our story, and other stories also, can write their own versions of what happened."

"That still doesn't sound so bad," Feuilly trailed off, in deep thought.

Grantaire smiled ruefully, "If only. When I clicked on the button that said 'Les Misérables,' there were all of these different stories. Most of them were romances featuring our dear Enjolras here."

Said revolutionary paled as Grantaire still rambled on.

"I clicked on one of the stories, and there was…" his voice trailed off, "Bahorel! I can't keep going! It's still too painful."

Bahorel took up the story telling, "Let it suffice to say, the author or authoress believed that Enjolras and Grantaire were romantically together and fond of displaying their affections to the other."

All of the Amis in the room turned green, except for Enjolras, who looked to be a ghost if he should pale any further.

"Grantaire? Me? Together? Romantically?" here Enjolras gave a little dry-heave.

Bahorel, missing all of these warning signs, prattled on, "Oh, yes! Some also think that you and Éponine should get together and have a dozen babies!"

Enjolras now turned a mottled shade of fuschia and lime green, dashed with a little white.

"What? Who? Babies?"

"Éponine. Jondrette, I think. Marius' neighbor."

"Um. Alright then…" Enjolras decided at that moment that he needed a breath of fresh air. This was too much for him to handle at the moment. What happened to the creepy Grantaire with the coffee and bagel? The annoying drunkard?

On his way out, Enjolras had the misfortune to pass by the computer Grantaire had been looking at.

He read, "And so Grantaire and Enjolras kissed passionat…"

Enjolras got no farther before running out of the new café as quickly as possible, never once looking back.

Still in the café, the Amis looked to each other, and then to the door which Enjolras had just disappeared through, and then to a now-unconscious Grantaire on the floor.

"Poor guys," Jean Prouvaire said, "what is this new devilry?"

Bahorel placed his hand on Jehan's shoulder, "This, my friend, is fanfiction."

Jehan nodded and stood up straight.

"It must be stopped."

* * *

**I know this chapter is short, but it is the first one. I hope you guys liked it. I'll update if you review! Please feel free to PM me with any suggestions or constructive criticism. Ciao!**

**Also know I have nothing against E/R and E/É. This is just how I imagined the situation of Enjolras finding fanfiction**.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello all. Please do not kill me for this really late update. School has been crazy. So I auditioned for "Macbeth" on the second day, and I got in. If anyone cares, I'm playing King Duncan. I get to die first! And I'm in choir… as a contralto. With a tenor range. I'm a girl. We're doing a Les Mis medley! And I'm filming two movies soon. One about time travel and one a silent horror film. The workload is crazy, and I need my free time and sleep! On another note, I discovered Ramin Karimloo as the Phantom, and now I can proudly say I'm a fan.**

**Note: any fics that I use in this story are made up by me on the spot. If I manage to offend anyone by plagiarizing or anything of that sort, I apologize.**

**Disclaimer: I am not Victor Hugo. If he was writing this, there would've been fifty-odd pages describing the interior decorations of the internet café Bahorel and Grantaire went to.**

**oOo**

When Bahorel woke up the next morning, his first thought was _I probably shouldn't have told Enjolras all about Fanfiction. Not the best decision I've ever made._ But, he just shrugged. Enjolras could deal with that. After all, the leader of a Revolution couldn't be fazed by something as trivial as a story. Even if the story involved Enjolras dating Grantaire. Here, Bahorel shuddered. Never mind, Enjolras should have the right to panic over something like that.

Sighing, he downed his newly-made cup of coffee and walked out of the door to Combeferre's apartment.

**oOo**

A series of knocks sounded at the door. Combeferre was not amused.

"Hello?" he called out. It was six in the morning. Who on Earth would be calling so early?

"It's me, Bahorel."

Combeferre was surprised at this. Bahorel didn't often call on his friends unless he really needed something. Urgently.

"What do you want?"

A sigh sounded from outside, "Can you please just open the door already? My voice is growing hoarse."

Oops. Combeferre walked over to the door and ushered Bahorel in, "What can I do for you, Bahorel? Why so early in the morning."

Bahorel smiled grimly, "I feel horrible about yesterday. I wonder how Enjolras must be coping."

Combeferre clapped Bahorel in the shoulder, "Well, he'll get through it soon enough. He always does. Grantaire is a different story." Bahorel paled; an unlikely occurrence for the dandy.

"Oh."

"The wine's probably all gone from the Musain by now. We should go over to him and make sure he doesn't do anything that will get himself hurt."

Nodding, Bahorel started to walk out the door. "Come on, Combeferre, let's walk down to the internet café and find out more about this 'fanfiction.' Maybe then we can find something to help Enjolras and Grantaire."

Combeferre had a sinking feeling that reading more of this 'fanfiction' would only make the situation worse. However, he was desperate to help his friend. In any way possible.

**oOo**

At the internet café, Combeferre got to the first of the big plastic boxes and sat down expectantly. He didn't know how these, _what were they called? Computers, yes that was it, worked. So_ he turned to Bahorel, who noticed the bemused look in his friend's eyes, and took over.

With a flurry of typing and random mouse clicks, Bahorel had navigated to the Fanfiction website. He spoke aloud as he clicked, "Fanfiction… books… scrolling down… here! Les Misérables. That is where the stories are."

Combeferre looked even more confused, "'The wretched'? Why would we be in a book called 'the wretched'?"

Bahorel just waved this off and scrolled down the page, mumbling to himself. When he finally found what he was looking for, he gestured for Combeferre to come closer and to read the screen.

Deciding that reading out loud was his best option; Combeferre read the words on the screen.

The story started.

_Enjolras was walking down the street when he ran into Feuilly, who was fiddling with a piece of paper._

_"Hello Feuilly."_

_"Hello Enjolras. How's your day been so far?"_

_"Fine, how was yours?"_

Combeferre looked up at Bahorel, "What's so bad about this?"

Bahorel just motioned to the computer screen, "Keep reading and you'll find out."

"_Fabulous. Jehan requested I make a fan for him. Preferably covered in flowers."_

_Enjolras grinned._

Combeferre looked back up at Bahorel, "What? Enjolras grinning? Does Jehan even know him?"

Bahorel sighed, "No, Combeferre. That is what this idiot author wrote. The author only thinks Enjolras is all smiles and happiness."

A moment of silence, and then the two burst out laughing. After they had laughed until their sides had cramped up, Bahorel shoved Combeferre back into his chair.

"Keep reading."

_Enjolras looked away bashfully. Slowly, he turned to look back at Feuilly._

_"Can you… maybe… make me a fan?" he stuttered._

_Feuilly smile warmly._

_"Of course, my dearest friend. Any specifics?"_

_Enjolras mumbled something and turned bright red._

_"What?" Feuilly asked, not understanding his friend's embarrassment._

_Enjolras spoke a little bit louder, but still too quiet for Feuilly to hear._

_"What?"_

_Enjolras went took a deep breath and spoke all too fast._

_"IwouldlikeittosayEnjolrasandFeuillyforever."_

_Feuilly, having magical abilities, understood his friend immediately. He grasped Enjolras' hand in his own and spoke._

_"I love you, Enjolras."_

_"I love you, too, Feuilly."_

_And so the two passionately…_

Here Combeferre stopped reading aloud and blanched. With a look of horror on his face, he questioned Bahorel, "Why, Bahorel, why? Do these people not understand that Feuilly has his own mistress and that Enjolras hardly ever notices anyone except for his friends?"

Bahorel grimaced, "As you can see, it is not just Grantaire and Enjolras these authors write romance novels about. Even Feuilly is subject to this horror."

"Let's hope Feuilly doesn't get corrupted by this drivel, too."

As if the Fates had intervened, the bell on the internet café's door jingled as three people stepped in. Courfeyrac, Jean Prouvaire, and Feuilly noticed the two men frantically trying to make the computer and the offending piece of literature disappear, and walked over.

"Hello Combeferre, Bahorel," Feuilly greeted the two, "what are you trying to do so quickly? Is it that important that we shouldn't see it?"

The two addressed quickly nodded and shoved the computer out of the way. Sadly, the power cord only extended so far, and Jehan made his way over to it and began reading where Combeferre had left off. Said man began to shout at Jehan to stop reading and to "get back here now," but Jehan just carried on, as if Combeferre wasn't even there.

_And so the two passionately kissed and went stargazing later that night, where they kissed some more._

_Enjolras smiled down at Feuilly._

_"Have I told you that I…"_

Jehan stopped reading aloud.

"'I love you, Feuilly'?"

Feuilly turned a mottled shade of bright fuschia and neon green, and began stuttering, not being able to find words for the horror he had just witnessed. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a single "what?"

And then he passed out.

**oOo**

As the remaining friends gathered around Feuilly, Courfeyrac was the first to speak.

"Another one bites the dust." This earned him a whack on the arm from Combeferre, who looked surprisingly composed. He must've had more time to get used to the idea of Feuilly and Enjolras together.

"Not funny, Courfeyrac."

Combeferre felt a slight poke on his shoulder. Turning his head around to see who was interrupting this horrific moment, his jaw dropped.

"Why are you all looking at me like that? Why is Feuilly on the floor?" the newcomer spoke.

It was Enjolras, and he was walking over to the computer. He slowly began to read.

All eyes were on Enjolras when they heard him scream.

**oOo**

**Hope this makes you guys happy. I almost didn't put Enjolras in this chapter, but I didn't want to be mean(er). No E/R or É/E yet. I don't think the poor characters of this story could take that. Know that I will update sooner than last time.**

**Please PM me or leave a review. I need ideas for the fake fics and you never know when writer's block could hit.**

**Ciao!**


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